9

so it's 9-9-09

a day i've been waiting for because i really really want to see 9

but apparently rensselaer has decided not to carry the film, at all, so i'm going to have to drive at least 45 minutes to see the film...


i'm a little bitter...


also, note about today: wednesday has 9 letters, september also has 9 letters, and is the 252nd day of the year (2+5+2=9)

fifteen books...

The English major in me couldn't resist doing this:

Don't take too long to think about it.
List 15 books you've read that will always stick with you.
They should be the first 15 you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.


1. Brave New World, by Adolus Huxley
2. The Divine Comedy, by Dante Alighieri
3. Watchmen, by Alan Moore
4. Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
5. The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis
6. The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
7. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
8. Angels & Demons, by Dan Brown
9. Life of Pi, by Yann Martel
10. Paradise Lost, by John Milton
11. Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner
12. The Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad
13. The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood
14. Dreamcatcher, by Stephen King
15. The Dante Club, by Matthew Pearl

Tagging:
KittyMarie(read her's, it's who I stole this from), ellolove, If I Were Being Honest, and anyone else reading and should feel so compelled, please leave a comment so that I can track you to your blog and read what comes to your mind in less than 15 minutes...

student teaching...

so...

i start my first day of student teaching tomorrow...

the students start on thursday...

i'd be lying if i said i wasn't completely terrified...

and i was told my students will use all of their internet knowledge to find everything i'm associated--which means they'll find this... if you're one of my students and you've stumbled upon this, kudos... a word to you: be awesome, not miserable... those are really some of the best words to live by...


here goes nothing.

I Saw The Pope

Easter Sunday of this year, while on spring break, I attended mass in the Vatican. It was awesome. This is the song I wrote for it, and by that, I mean anyone who stumbles across this randomly, I wrote this spoof of "I'm on a Boat," transforming it into "I Saw the Pope". It was harder than I thought it would be, but it fits the meter and rhyme scheme, so put the song on and sing along.

Ben-né

Aw, snap. Get your hymnals ready, turn to page two-six-three. Everybody in the church hit the wooden pews, but stand for the opening procession. We singin’ this. Let’s pray.

I saw the Pope; I saw the Pope. Everybody look at me ‘cause I really saw the Pope. I saw the Pope; I saw the Pope. Take a good, hard look at the super holy Pope.

I saw the pope, Mother Teresa, take a look at me. Straight prayin’ wit da pope, head’a da Holy Sea. Bustin’ five pr’yer, words whisp’rin’ full of hope. You can’t stop me, Illuminati, ‘cause I saw the Pope.
Take a picture, Val. I saw the Pope, girl. We drinkin’ Communion Wine ‘cause it’s so fine. I got my head bowed, and my handies folded. I’m sayin’ prayers; you in confession, straight sayin’ sorry.

I’m standin’ in a queue, crackin’ jokes and puns. The jokes aren’t good, no one’s havin’ any fun. But this ain’t com’dy club, the joke’s as fu’ny as I use. I saw the Pope, Easter Sunday, don’t you ever bemuse.

I saw the Pope and he gave a bless-an wearin’ a silver and gold Papal Fanon. He’s leadin’ the free world, on a balcony like Juliet. If he lost a bet, you bet he’d still be Benedict.
F’rget priests, I saw the Pope Easter Sunday. F’rget church, I wenta th’Vatican Easter Sunday. I’m in the chairs with my boys, Easter Sunday. The church bells make noise, Easter Sunday.

Hey Sally, if you could see us shine, up really er’ly to get in the line. Gonna get thru the line to good seats some time. Mark Simmons said, “there’s no bad experiences.”

Yeah. Never thought I’d see the Pope. It’s a big marbl’ St. Peter’s Square. Yeah. Hey Jesus, look at me, oooh. Never thought I’d see the place where Angels and Demons took place. Believe me when I say, I met a sister.

I saw the Pope; I saw the pope. Everybody look at me ‘cause I really saw the Pope. I saw the Pope; I saw the Pope. Take a good, hard look at the super holy Pope.

Ben-né. Ben-né. Yeaaah, yea, yea.

Blogs From My Birthday

Time ticks by.

Camp is half over now. Staff week has come and gone, and weeks one and two of the camp season came and went in a wet, sticky mess.

Time ticks by.

I turned twenty-two on Friday, which means it’s official. I’m old. Facing my senior year, I’ve come to the realisation that I really need to make some decisions in my life. I’ll be student teaching in the fall—so I’m going to have to decide whether or not I want to teach straight out of college. I just don’t know if I’m ready to teach a classroom everyday for the rest of my life at the ripe age of twenty-three. There are so many things I want to do with my life, so now it’s time to decide which things on that list I actually want to pursue and which ones are silly pipedreams. Because of my trip abroad, more of the things that were previously on the “silly pipedream” list have slid over and joined the ranks of pursuable. I blame it on the pyramids.

Time ticks by.

As I sit and ponder these whinny questions about my future, I’m constantly struggling at camp. I love working at camp with all my heart. I really do. But this year has been really different. It’s just not the same anymore. This summer is my seventh summer on camp staff, and because of that, I’m starting to feel old. I always laugh it off and make jokes about how I refuse to grow up, but seriously, why am I still working at summer camp? There are so many other things I could be doing with my summer. I don’t regret my decision, but it makes me wonder. Pause. That’s not entirely true. I feel a tinge of regret when I look at my wallet and my bank statements and see obscenely low numbers.

Low numbers aren’t only appearing in my bank statements. The number of scouts at Tamarack this summer is lower than it has ever been. Nationally, the number of scouts has been declining annually, but now, due to the dilapidated economy and whatever other citable sources, the numbers at camp are ridiculously low. When you look out at the parade field, it is painfully obvious of the lessened numbers. What concerns me the most about the number of scouts ticking away like minutes on the Doomsday Clock is because the Boy Scouts is such an important and worthwhile organisation. I don’t care what preconceived notions and stereotypes exist about the Boy Scouts; there are so many great things that the BSA does for youth.

Time ticks by.

The day before my birthday I went on a mountain biking expedition. It was pretty gnarly. That idiom about “just like riding a bike” isn’t as accurate as I always thought it would be. I haven’t ridden a bike in quite some time, and it showed. I’ve also collected some war wounds to show for it. I wish I could have taken some pictures because it really was a sight to see, but alas, that would have been supremely awkward.

Nothing terribly mentionable happened on my birthday. However, to mildly contradict that, I did get to spend the evening with Phil and Andy. So nothing eventful, but still delightful.

I wish I had more to say, but I’ve spent the day moving boxes…